


The Barista District

by youmockussir



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, F/F, Fluff, M/M, Past Earl Harlan/Cecil Palmer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-12
Updated: 2020-02-12
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:33:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22685530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youmockussir/pseuds/youmockussir
Summary: Cecil is a barista. He's also a disaster. Carlos just wanted some coffee.
Relationships: Carlos/Cecil Palmer, Maureen/Michelle Nguyen (Welcome to Night Vale)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 33





	The Barista District

Cecil loved opening shifts. Sure, they were early; so early that he didn’t see the sun until a few hours after he started working. He biked to work every morning at 4 like clockwork. But, he loved the quiet. He loved knowing he would not see a single car on the way to work. He loved putting on Dust Bowl Ballads and singing to himself while brewing the filter coffees. It was peaceful in a way that was hard to come by in the service industry. Soon, his cafe would be filled with tired customers, eager to get their daily caffeine hit, and that was pleasure in its own way. But for now, with the sounds of old American folk crooning over the speakers, Cecil smiled to his pastry shelf. This was a good morning.

Maureen was less enthusiastic. 

“Cecil,” she hissed. “I can’t believe you would listen to something as mainstream as Woody Guthrie! I’m embarrassed for you.”

Cecil shook his head, smile sliding into an amused smirk. Sure, Maureen wasn’t the most positive person, but she was nothing if not entertaining to be around.

“Oh?” Cecil turned to face her. “By all means, take the aux.” Maureen only huffed and moved to turn on the espresso machines. 

“Thought so.” He knew Maureen secretly liked his taste in music. She just liked to give him shit.

Cecil finished arranging the bakery display, taking a moment to look over his work. He took a lot of pride in little things like this. He just liked making things. Sometimes, most of the time, it didn’t even matter what he made, as long as it had been with his own hands. 

He went through the opening checklist in his head. Bakery? Yes. Filter coffee? Yep. Espresso machines warmed up? Cecil eyed Maureen, who was using a little feather to clean out the grounds bin. Bloodstone chanting? He thought a moment. Yes, that was the first thing he did. 

Iced teas? He walked over to the refrigerator, checking for the tea pitchers. When he couldn’t find any, he pulled four pitchers out of the storage rack and filled them each with a liter of hot water. 

After putting a tea bag in each pitcher, Cecil checked the time. 5:15. That gave him three minutes until the white and green teas were ready, five minutes until the black one was, seven minutes until the prophet one would be, and fifteen minutes before the store opened. Perfect.

“Top three predictions for today, go!” 

This was a game that they would play before the store opened. It had started when Maureen had accurately predicted that Marcus Vangston would ask for crushed gold in his coffee and then forget to drink it, back in 2015.

Maureen paused from stocking straws. “Hmm.” She stuck them into the hornet’s nest where they were kept for customers.

“One. Someone will try to order that god-awful Unicorn Frap today.”

Cecil shuddered. He absolutely hated that drink. It took so much time to make, and he was against animal cruelty! Plus, that much sugar can not be good for you. “Gross.”

“Yeah.” Maureen made a sound that was like gagging, if gagging could be a little sardonic. “Uh, two. Erika will take Erika’s drink on accident.” Cecil nodded thoughtfully. 

“Of course.”

“And three, you will say something super embarrassing.” She smirked. Or at least, Cecil thought she smirked. Maureen didn’t move her face much. Wait, hold on-

“Hey!” Cecil cried. “Why do you say I’ll do that?” 

“I dunno.” Maureen shrugged, kind of. “I think that would be funny.”

The gargoyle above the door shrieked, indicating a customer had just come through the door. Shit. Cecil finished up with the teas while Maureen opened up register one. He made sure to write down the predictions on the back of an old drink receipt and tacked it onto one of the espresso machines. He put the word ‘embarrassing’ in quotes, though. Cecil was just subversive like that. 

***

It was a Thursday, so the day was pretty slow so far. A few members of the Sheriff’s Secret Police came by to get an order of “fifteen coffees, black, with milk and sugar, hold the coffee.” Dana got the “mayor’s special”, which was really just a drink she had invented while working here. It was good to see her. Someone order that stupid, unholy Unicorn drink, and Maureen stared Cecil down until he sighed and tried really hard not to growl at the customer while he made it. When he was done drizzling blood over the whipped cream, the first prediction had been crossed off. 

Earl had come by around seven. Cecil didn’t know what he ordered, because he had been hiding in the apron closet for the whole time he was there. It’s not that he was afraid of Earl, or didn’t want to see him, it was just. Well. Awkward. Ever since. Well. You know. And he didn’t want Maureen’s prediction to come true. It didn’t say anything about doing embarrassing things, even if Maureen had pointed and laughed at him after Earl left. 

He was still a little shaken up by it, and was caught off guard when, standing by his perfectly arranged bakery display some fifteen minutes later, was a perfect man. 

Now, it could be said that Cecil was a dramatic man. He said things loudly. He said things deeply. He said things a lot. But, Cecil swore, that man was the most beautiful man he had ever seen in his exhaustingly long life. He was perfect, and not even in a dramatic way. It was simply a fact, like the fact that his heart was beating really fast, or his palms were really sweaty, or mountains aren’t real. 

The handsome man had dark eyes that were richer than mocha sauce. He was wearing a clean white lab coat that brought out his teeth, which were straight and white like a military cemetery. His hair, oh, his hair! It bounced luxuriously down his shoulders like a waterfall. His hair shined in the cafe lighting, and Cecil lost himself for a moment, imagining himself running his fingers throu-

No. That’s enough, Palmer. 

The wonderful man seemed to be studying the croissants with a magnifying glass. It felt important. Cecil nervously wondered if the arrangement was up to his liking.

Finally, the beautiful man looked up. 

“Uh, hi.” The perfect man said, his voice as smooth as a caramel drizzle. Cecil just stared at him, looking like a realtor in the headlights. 

“I would like, uh, coffee? Do you guys do coffee here?” The extraordinary man bumbled. 

Cecil fell in love instantly.

**Author's Note:**

> I've been trying to get back into writing! I'm abroad this semester (the Danes are good at pastries and biking places and are not good at closing their sandwiches or selling vanilla extract in grocery stores) so I have a lot more free time than my normal college-engineering-suffering semesters. I'm starting by writing what I know. In my last fic, I wrote about making macarons, which was my signature dish back when I owned that bakery (long story). Now, I'll bring you into the world of working at a bastardized starbucks. Enjoy :) (And yes, there will be Michelle/Maureen eventually. My sapphic little heart wouldn't have it any other way)


End file.
